Refugees

Outside the main gates of Calais Town.

A large clearing had been temporarily designated as a refugee camp, chaotic yet carrying a faint flicker of life.

The tents were pitched haphazardly, some propped up by nothing more than a few thin wooden sticks.

Others consisted of worn-out burlap draped loosely over the ground, barely offering any shelter from the wind and rain.

A dense crowd packed the camp: ragged men, gaunt women, and skeletal elderly folk and children.

Some sat on the ground in a daze, their eyes hollow as if they had yet to process the trauma of losing their homes.

Others lay on the cold earth, groaning softly as blood continued to seep from their wounds.

The air was thick with a suffocating blend of foul odors and an indefinable scent of decay.

Several guards from the White family stood watch around the perimeter.

Gripping their weapons tightly, they watched the camp with tense expressions, terrified of a potential riot.

In a corner of the camp, a woman crouched by a crude tent, cradling her child.

The child was fast asleep, their tiny face pale and bloodless, their breathing faint.

The woman's eyes were swollen like walnuts, her lips dry and peeling, her face a mask of exhaustion and despair.

She stared blankly into the distance without a word, as if her soul had already been hollowed out.

Beside her, a white-haired old man curled up on the ground, mumbling incoherently.

No one could understand whether he was lamenting the loss of his family or expressing despair for the future.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out near the town gates, shattering the camp's dead silence.

Several fine horses galloped out from the gates, led by none other than the steward, Jesse.

Behind him followed a squad of fully armed guards, longswords at their waists and armor glinting coldly in the sunlight, every face grim and tense.

Startled by the thundering hooves and clattering armor plates, the refugees surged forward like a tide.

Some stumbled and nearly fell, clawing forward blindly with skeletal hands, their eyes filled with a desperate mixture of longing and pleading, as if clutching at a lone piece of driftwood in a vast ocean.

A woman hoisted a ragged child with a bloated belly above her head.

Her voice was so hoarse she could barely make a sound, and tears cut through the grime on her face.

“My Lord! Please, just a bite of food for my child... He hasn't eaten a single grain in three days! If this goes on, he'll...”

She choked up, unable to finish, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Nearby, a man holding a boy with a bleeding leg fell heavily to his knees, pressing his forehead into the dirt as he cried out in supplication.

“My Lord, save my boy! I'll work like an ox or a horse for you, I just beg for some medicine and a bite of food!”

“My Lord! My home is gone! I have nothing left!”

The chaotic pleas, choked sobs, and soft whimpers of children blended together, rising and falling across the crowd.

Jesse reined in his horse, his gaze sweeping over the ragged crowd.

Their cheeks were sunken, their bodies covered in dirt and scars, their faces etched with the profound despair of losing everything.

He took a deep breath, raised his hand, and shouted, “Don't crowd! Quiet down, everyone, and listen to me!”

The clamor gradually subsided as all eyes turned to Jesse, filled with desperate hope.

Jesse's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear and powerful enough to carry across the entire camp.

“Lord White has ordered that tents be pitched and grain allocated to relieve your immediate hardships!”

The refugees breathed a collective sigh of relief, with a few calling out, “Thank you, My Lord!”

Satisfied with their reaction, Jesse continued.

“Over the next few days, we will register everyone. The town's shops and manors are short-handed. As long as you are willing to work, you will receive wages and food!”

“Now, please step back and maintain order. Do not cause a commotion, or we will have to suspend the relief efforts!”

The guards immediately stepped forward, systematically maintaining order and guiding the crowding masses backward.

The refugees obediently retreated, murmuring their thanks.

Astride his horse, Jesse quietly watched the scene unfold, his face devoid of emotion.

Holding ledgers, the guards slowly made their way through the crowded throng.

Though they claimed to be registering workers, Jesse knew very well that the town wasn't actually that short on labor.

This was merely an exercise to pick out a few who looked sturdy and capable of hard labor.

The vast majority of the remaining crowd would have no choice but to wait in vain.

Clustered tightly together, the refugees' eyes locked onto the ledgers in the guards' hands, their gazes burning with undisguised desperation.

“Me! I have strength! I can do any kind of work!”

“My Lord, look at me! I used to be a carpenter, my skills are excellent!”

“Please, give me a chance! I'll work hard, I promise...”

Jesse listened to the various pleas without a flicker of emotion on his face.

He had long grown accustomed to such scenes; suffering on the border never truly ceased.

Just then, a sudden commotion rippled through the crowd, as hushed jostling broke the relative quiet.

A small figure squeezed through a gap in the crowd.

She was tiny, so skin-and-bones from prolonged malnutrition that she was able to slip past the tightly packed bodies.

Stumbling a few steps, she rushed in front of Jesse's horse and looked up with a face covered in dirt and soot.

It was a girl, looking no older than thirteen.

Her clothes were torn in several places, exposing arms and legs covered in tiny scratches that had scabbed over into a shocking dark red.

A thick layer of grime coated her face, concealing most of her features.

Yet her eyes were entirely different from the vacant, numb gazes of the other refugees; deep within them burned a faint but unyielding spark.

Clenching her fists, the girl hesitated for a moment before finally summoning the courage to speak.

“M-My Lord!” Her voice trembled, yet it carried a firm resolve. “I want to learn how to fight! I want to get stronger! I want to avenge my family!”

Jesse was taken aback. Leaning down to inspect her closely, he realized that despite her emaciated face, her delicate features were still discernible.

Before Jesse could speak, a middle-aged woman hurriedly squeezed out from the crowd, her face filled with terror.

She grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her back, her voice laced with apology and urgency.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! My Lord, she's just an ignorant child, please don't take it to heart!” Apologizing profusely to Jesse, she lowered her voice to plead with the girl.

“You silly child, don't talk nonsense! How could people like us ever hope to seek revenge...”

The girl struggled fiercely, refusing to budge an inch, her eyes rimmed with red.

“Auntie, I'm not leaving! I want revenge! Those monsters killed Mother and Father and destroyed our village! I can't just let it go!”

“How are you going to get revenge?” The middle-aged woman's eyes welled with tears, her voice a mix of heartache and helplessness.

“You can't even lift a blade, so how could you ever fight monsters? Child, you are the only one left in our family...”

Watching the scene unfold, Jesse understood most of it.

The girl's parents had undoubtedly perished during the monster invasion, leaving her to scrape by with her aunt.

He looked down at the girl once more. She was so emaciated she was practically skin and bones, her body covered in wounds, swaying slightly as if a gust of wind might knock her over.

Jesse sighed softly, keeping his tone as gentle as possible.

“Child, revenge is not something you can achieve right now,” he said slowly, looking into her stubborn eyes.

“Go back. Surviving is what matters most.”

The girl froze, her eyes instantly brimming with large, heavy tears.

Yet she bit her lip hard, refusing to let them fall or show any weakness.

“My Lord, I'm not afraid to die...” Her voice still trembled, but she remained stubbornly in place, repeating herself.

“I'm really not afraid to die. As long as I can get revenge, I'll do anything...”

Hearing this, the aunt could no longer hold back her tears, which spilled down her cheeks as she gripped the girl's hand tightly.

The words caught in her throat, and in the end, she could say nothing, only wipe away her tears in silence.

Jesse fell silent for a few seconds, his expression turning solemn.

He had seen many children like this, left with nothing but an obsession for vengeance after losing their families.

But reality was always cruel. The path of revenge was never one that could be trodden on passion alone.

To become a Class holder capable of rivaling monsters, one either needed abundant resources for support or an innate talent.

What talent could an ordinary child from a border village possibly possess?

Even if he softened his heart and took her in now, it would only send her to an early grave, ultimately doing her more harm than good.

Jesse slowly shook his head, his tone laced with helplessness.

“Go back with your aunt for now, and live well,” he said to the girl, enunciating every word.

“Only by staying alive will you ever have a chance to see your revenge through.”

“My Lord! I'm really not afraid to die...”

The young girl's voice was faint and thin, drowned out by the surrounding clamor, making her look pitiable.

Seeing this, a guard stepped forward, preparing to pull the girl back into the crowd of refugees.

Her aunt held her hand tightly, tears flowing uncontrollably, but she could only drag her back.

Just then, a gentle voice drifted over from outside the crowd, cutting through the noise.

“Steward Jesse, if I were you, I would take this little warrior in.”

Startled, Jesse quickly turned his head to look in the direction of the voice.

He saw a young man in a white robe, leading a tall, massive bird, slowly walking over from the edge of the crowd.

The giant bird was a good deal taller than the young man.

Its long legs took somewhat shaky steps, and it panted heavily, clearly exhausted from a long and arduous journey.

In the young man's hand was a uniquely styled staff; its head was thick and heavy, while its tip was sharp and pointed.

It looked like both a mage's staff and a weapon ready for combat at any moment.

His white robe was stained with dust, and his face bore the obvious fatigue of travel.

Yet he exuded an aura of calm composure, completely distinct from the anxious, miserable refugees around him.

When Jesse clearly saw the young man's face, his eyes lit up instantly.

The gravity and helplessness on his face vanished, replaced by an irrepressible joy.

Bai Xuan!

It was him—the very person Lord White had been discussing in the study just earlier. To think he would actually appear right before his eyes.

Ignoring the refugees and the girl, Jesse quickly stepped forward to greet him, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Mr. Bai! You've finally arrived!” he said, quickly offering his hand in delight.

“Why didn't you send word ahead of time? We could have prepared a proper welcome for you.”

Bai Xuan let go of the Chocobo's reins and lightly shook Jesse's hand, his tone calm.

“No need to go to such trouble,” he said. His gaze drifted past Jesse, landing on the small girl who was blocked by the guards but still stood stubbornly.

“I've come this time because I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

He paused, withdrew his gaze, and looked back at Jesse with a firmer tone.

“That girl—you can take her in.”

Jesse was startled again. He instinctively looked back at the small, thin figure, his face full of hesitation.

“Her?” He frowned, sounding puzzled.

“Sir, she's just an ordinary commoner child, and so physically weak. Letting her join the guards... I'm afraid it's really not suitable. Besides, she's a girl.”

Bai Xuan shook his head slightly.

“If you don't take her,” he said slowly, looking at Jesse, “then I'll have to invest in her myself.”

Jesse's heart skipped a beat, immediately recalling the incident at the mine.

He remembered the curses that even the church couldn't lift, yet this young man had resolved them with ease.

He quickly lowered his voice and leaned closer to Bai Xuan. “Did you notice something, sir? Is there... something special about this child?”

Bai Xuan didn't answer directly. He merely gave a slight nod, a deep meaning hidden in his eyes.

Jesse wanted to ask more, but Bai Xuan had already turned and walked toward the girl.

By now, the girl was being pulled back by her aunt.

Her eyes were red and she bit her pale lips, fighting back her tears.

Staring at the cold faces of the guards, the spark of desire within her to grow strong and seek revenge was slowly dying out.

Just as she was about to give up, she saw the young man in the white robe stepping toward her.

The sunlight happened to shine from behind him, casting a faint golden halo around his body, making him look exceptionally radiant.

The staff in his hand gleamed with a dark yet warm luster. Though his white robe was dusty, it could not hide his elegant demeanor; he stood far more upright and ethereal than anyone else.

The girl froze, staring at him blankly, forgetting to struggle, forgetting to cry.

She suddenly recalled his words from moments ago: “If I were you, I would take this little warrior in.”

It was him. This person in front of her had spoken up for her, giving her a chance.

Bai Xuan walked up to the girl and slowly came to a halt.

The girl was only tall enough to reach his chest; she had to tilt her head up slightly to see his face clearly.

Sunlight fell from the side, casting soft shadows across his face and dispelling his travel fatigue.

That face was incredibly clean, as if it didn't belong to this dusty, blood-soaked border world.

There was an indescribable purity in his features, like someone stepped out of a painting, or an angel that only appeared in fairy tales.

The girl stared in awe, completely forgetting how to react for a moment.

She suddenly became conscious of her own current appearance.